


all i need is

by breakfastoversugar



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, i rlly dont know how to describe this, this takes place during the two years theyre broken up, whizzer thinks abt his ex at a bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:06:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25392097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakfastoversugar/pseuds/breakfastoversugar
Summary: The only thing Whizzer Brown needs is Whizzer Brown. And music that's so loud he can feel the vibrations reverberating throughout his whole body. And a good, strong drink that he can lose himself in. And handsome men who aren’t frumpy and aren’t constantly trying to reach for things they can’t possibly get.
Relationships: Whizzer Brown/Marvin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	all i need is

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! ive had a bunch of collections of small things that i wanted to write that im slowly working my way through, but im kinda missing the rush of chaptered fics lol. i probably wont start one for a little while longer, though, since my life is still hectic after moving earlier this week.

Whizzer Brown was a free man. One who was completely untethered and not at all tied down. There were no clingy boyfriends that nag him to make the dinner and clip the coupons. There was absolutely no one there to question him why he wasn’t faithful. There wasn’t anyone that held him during the night despite that. There were no fights, no arguments, no moments where things were sorta-kinda perfect, no times when their hands slid together just right or when  _ he _ would sway Whizzer’s hips and sing while the taller would cook. Those were things Whizzer didn’t need. Those were things Whizzer didn’t want.

Whizzer’s current lifestyle was perfect for him. It was fast and rough and it was everything he needed. He didn’t need family dinners, almost sons, a friend turned romantic rival turned sorta-kinda friend, a lover, any of it. The only thing Whizzer Brown needs is Whizzer Brown. And music that's so loud he can feel the vibrations reverberating throughout his whole body. And a good, strong drink that he can lose himself in. And handsome men who aren’t frumpy and aren’t constantly trying to reach for things they can’t possibly get.

Whizzer smiles at a man from across the bar. He slips his drink. He sets his sights. He smiles, averts his gaze, lets it wander back. The man slides over to him and buys him a drink. It’s all so easy to Whizzer. He flirts, gripes, smiles, sneers, leers. 

Under the lights, Whizzer can see bright blue eyes. He feels a pang, painful and deep and cutting and everything Whizzer had been avoiding for two years. He ignores it by breathing in through his nose. It’s not _him._ It’s never _him._ _He_ had dark curly hair and bright blue eyes and an absolutely dreadful sense of style. The only thing _he_ has in common with the man in front of Whizzer now is the brilliance of the blue that saturates their eyes. Whizzer can’t decide whether he loves or hates blue eyes. Whizzer can’t decide whether he loves or hates him.

“So,” The man who is steadily losing appeal through no fault of his own starts, “You come here often.” He shifts on his stool and looks totally out of his element.

Whizzer smiles tight and laughs a bit too loudly, a bit too cruel, it has a bit too much bite. “Yeah, kinda.” He answers, curt and short. He checks his nails, bitten and blunt. Distantly, he wishes he had a cigarette. He stopped after he got a real boyfriend but there were times that it felt more convenient to smoke. It was just something to do with his hands.

This man is boring. Whizzer can predict his actions effortlessly. But he has a nice watch, nice shoes, and he is dressed nicely. Because of that, he’s worth Whizzer’s time. For a night. He wouldn’t entertain the thought for any longer. This man’s domestic life is probably as boring as his nightlife. He was probably the kind of man who wanted one of the same three dinners every night, drank the same things, expected their partner to be in their arms every night. Boring.

Whizzer sipped his drink and studied the man’s poor attempts at flirting. This was going to be easy. He smiled, sweet as sugar and sharp as a knife. He batted his eyelashes. He drew attention to his lips. The man fell for everything: hook, line, and sinker. His blue eyes were bright in the dim, shody lighting of the club. Whizzer tried his best not to focus on that.

Mostly because the thought was dumb. Why should Whizzer be forced to remember the man who threw him out whenever he sees certain things. Why does  _ he _ pop into Whizzer’s subconscious whenever there is the color blue, ugly ties, linguini. It isn’t fair. Whizzer is actively trying to move on. Tonight is worse than others. Most days, Whizzer can go almost the whole day without thinking about  _ him. _ It isn’t until night time rolls around and Whizzer finds himself alone or with a hollow feeling in his chest that he thinks about _ him. _ Once he pulled Whizzer into  _ his _ arms and whispered into the junction between his neck and his shoulder blade that being with the taller man helped  _ him _ sleep. Whizzer never told  _ him, _ but it helped him too. He can hardly sleep at night without  _ him. _

The thought that  _ he _ was different was one Whizzer held on to for so long, but in the end the taller man ended up with a broken heart and a fully packed suitcase. Even now, things between them felt different than anything Whizzer had ever experienced. Whizzer had loved  _ him. _ He regrets not figuring that out earlier. But after _ he _ had broken up with the brown eyed man, Whizzer realized that he had been in love with  _ him; _ he had probably been in love with  _ him _ since the beginning. The jealousy and pining and sticking by  _ his _ side all made sense suddenly. It was love and that killed Whizzer.

Love was as sweet as it was scary. Having something that was just theirs was so sweet. The early mornings before the fights were sweet. The nights where things were good and  _ he _ would pull Whizzer into  _ his _ arms and hum or sing a dumb love song were sweet. They were also scary. It was scary to let  _ him _ in, but he was scared to lose _ him. _ In the end, it didn’t matter. Whizzer lost  _ him _ anyways. 

Whizzer orders another drink.

You can’t lose something that was never yours in the first place.  _ He _ was never Whizzer’s. Just like Whizzer was never  _ his. _ Not entirely.  _ He _ played  _ his _ family charades and Whizzer had … well, this. Whizzer lives for this. This is all Whizzer needs. 

He downs his drink and continues to try to convince himself that.

“We should dance,” Whizzer says to the man sitting next to him. The tall man stands up, holding out his hand for the man. Without hesitance, the stranger follows him.

This life is perfect. As he danced on the same floor as all of the other men around him, he felt serine. The music thrummed through the floor and through his body and he felt it in his throat and in his heart. There was nothing Whizzer loved more than this. The near anonymity provided by the other men around him proved a space that could nearly be intimate when shared with the right person.

Whizzer pointedly doesn’t think of the first time he ever danced with  _ him. _ The trendsetter doesn’t think of how  _ his _ hands shook or the nervous expression on  _ his _ face. He doesn’t think of any of that, because he doesn’t care anymore. He doesn’t. He shouldn’t. It doesn’t matter anymore. Being with  _ him _ was bloodletting. So he shouldn’t care anymore. He shouldn’t have cared in the first place. Why was Whizzer so stupid to care about  _ that asshole? _ Why did Whizzer let his own world expand to allow space for  _ his _ destructive life? Stupid, it was all so stupid.

He was determined to not focus on that. He grabbed the man in front of him and slid his hands onto his own hips. He could act like everything was fine. He could act like nothing bothered him. It was fine. It was totally alright. Everything would be alri-. No. Whizzer can’t say that anymore. He can agree with the sentiment, but he can’t think those words anymore. God, that life and that family flipped his world upside down and then spit him out. Whizzer never fit into it correctly, but he wanted to. He wanted to stay. Things weren’t perfect very often but he wanted to stay with  _ him. _ Whizzer huffed out an upset noise. Thinking about this wasn’t going to change things. He can’t do anything.

“Are you okay?” The man asks, hands going to Whizzer’s sides to still him from frustrated dancing. Whizzer stares at him with barely parted lips. No, Whizzer felt like garbage tonight. He felt completely unlovable and alienated from the only people that ever sorta-kinda mattered to him, but this man will never know that.

“Need a drink.” Whizzer mumbles instead, forgoing sharing his feelings with an absolute stranger. Honestly, now he just wants to go home. He wants to curl up in his own bed that has always seemed too big for just him. It was never too big with  _ him.  _

Whizzer shoves his way off the dance floor. His dancing was short lived but he just didn’t feel up to anything tonight. The man trailed behind him, quietly insisting on getting the drink. Whizzer shook his head and gave him a tight lipped smile. “I’ll get it.”

So he found himself back at the bar with the man he was dancing with. They sat but didn’t really talk. The other man seemed to be at least a little concerned for him, but Whizzer payed it no mind. He balanced himself on a stool and tried his best to stop thinking about his ex-lover doing his best to hold his crumbling family together. He ordered a drink and thought about his apartment. He should move.  _ His _ ghost lingers around there. It is almost like  _ he’s _ there still sometimes. Sometimes Whizzer will walk into a room and expect to see  _ him _ sheepishly looking around or ringing  _ his _ hands together. Sometimes in the morning he expects to see  _ him _ smiling down at some of Whizzer’s recent photography. But he isn't there. He hasn’t reached out since their chess game.

How dumb was that, them breaking up over a chess game?  _ He _ always did have a temper.  _ He _ liked to win and losing was almost the end of the world to  _ him, _ but it shouldn’t have come to that. Who knew Whizzer winning would lead to all this? Who knew Whizzer winning would lead to-

And then Whizzer saw  _ him. He  _ was sitting on the other end of the bar with some cheap bottle of beer in his hand.  _ Him. Marvin. _

What was he doing here?

Marvin took a drink out of his beer. Whizzer watched his throat work as he drank. A siren went off in his head and his chest panged painfully, but he was stuck there watching him. The object of his thoughts for the entire night was only a few feet from him and Whizzer could do nothing but sit there and watch. 

Desperately, Whizzer willed his brain to work again as he weighed the pros and cons to going over there and talking to him.

Con, he might be sucked into Marvin’s world again. Con, Marvin might try to charm Whizzer with his bright blues and his goofy little smile. Con, maybe Marvin wouldn’t change and Whizzer would go right back to filling that almost house-wife like role. Con, maybe Marvin would have changed too much and Whizzer wouldn’t be able to recognize him. Con, maybe he wouldn’t want to talk to Whizzer at all. 

And now time for the pros… The pros…

Whizzer can’t think of a single good thing to come out of talking to Marvin. Despite that, Whizzer can’t seem to stop himself from wanting to go up and talk to him. It didn’t have to be a big deal, he could just walk right up to him and talk. Maybe they could talk about some things. Maybe Marvin and Whizzer would finally have closure. 

Whizzer started to slide off the stool when he saw Marvin laugh. He paused long enough to notice someone talking to him. In their hand they held some kind of cocktail that Whizzer didn’t really care to recognize. They were facing each other and they both looked like they were enjoying the company.

The bottom of Whizzer’s world fell out. The ground crumbled from beneath his feet and in that moment he felt so, so small. This didn’t make any sense to Whizzer. Why was Marvin … Why was he here? What was he doing? Who was that? Nothing about this was right. Whizzer had no idea who that man was. Had Marvin moved on already? 

Why was Whizzer acting like it hadn’t been any time at all? It has been almost two years since him and Marvin were together. That's longer than they were together. That’s plenty of time to move on and do better. Plenty of time to find someone faithful who isn’t afraid to show love and affection, who isn’t afraid to be vulnerable.

“Hey, do you need someone to take you home? You’re shaking?” Whizzer looked down, his eyes widening a little. He was shaking. Whizzer looked at the man who was sitting next to him. Everything felt so wrong. He wanted to be across the bar, talking with Marvin. He wanted to smirk at Marvin from over his drink and make fun of him for his tie or his shoes or his watch or anything, really. He wanted to see Marvin’s face twist and turn and he wanted to see his lips curl into a smile. He wanted to feel those lips pressed against his. Whizzer wanted to run his hands through Marvin’s curls. When he looked back to Marvin, he was surprised to see his eyes staring back at him. 

Whizzer’s breath caught in his throat. Things could be simple, maybe. Maybe Marvin would leave whoever he was with and just  _ hold him, goddammit. _ Then things would be simple. No pros and cons, no lonesome pining in a club full of available men. Things could be almost perfect for a little while. Whizzer could hear the sweet song of love and pretend that it was still a song that he could play on repeat. 

They held each other’s gazes for a minute. Whizzer wondered if Marvin missed him as much as he missed Marvin. Marvin looked out of sorts. He looked like seeing Whizzer had thrown his whole world off its axis, which is kinda how Whizzer feels. 

It would be so easy to say something, to do something. It would be so easy to ditch the guy he was with and go to Marvin. It was always so easy to go back to Marvin after a long day. Maybe they could pretend the past two years were just a really long, really bad day. Or maybe they could accept those two years for what they were and show that maybe they’ve gotten better. Maybe they could love correctly this time.

If Whizzer had a second chance, he would love Marvin right this time. He would give this up. He doesn’t need this. He doesn’t need the thrum of music or the dim lights. He needs Marvin and his family. He needs Marvin and his terrible sense of style and his lopsided smile and his terrible bedhead and his dumb love for musicals and his calloused hands and his tired eyes. Whizzer hopes he can convey this to him with a look.

For a moment, a wonderful moment, he thinks it works. Marvin’s eyes widen at him for just a few seconds. Then he tears his eyes away to look at the person sitting next to him. Whizzer’s stomach drops. Of course. It was silly to think Marvin would want to go down a path that he had already been on before. Whizzer slid off his stool and got up to leave with no goodbyes to anyone, not even to the man who had danced with him and bought him drinks all night. 

  
Whizzer didn’t need this. Whizzer didn’t need the nightlife and the hubbub or -  _ God forbid _ \- Marvin. The only thing Whizzer Brown needs is Whizzer Brown.

**Author's Note:**

> black lives matter! please remember to sign petitions and do anything you can. blacklivesmatter.carrd.co is a wonderful resource for anyone looking for some. it gives you petitions and places to donate and ways that you can help. the men who killed george floyd need to be convicted, the people who killed breoanna taylor, elijah mcclain, treyvon martin, sandra bland, eric garner, tamir rice and so many other innocent black lives have not been convicted of murder. please keep signing petitions and doing what you can for this movement.
> 
> shifting to a less serious tone, this is something i think about often. just whizzer . and how he thinks abt marvin and what he would do if he saw marvin before the baseball game. i think its just a neat concept! also im so bad at tagging someone please teach me how to tag things


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